Yesterday, I helped a friend move. It was excruciating. The heat and the humidity worsened with an afternoon thunderstorm. Add in the job’s physical demands, and my energy level plummeted into the sub-basement. A job that should have taken a few hours, instead, consumed my entire day. Optimistic me found a bright spot for the sweaty work. During the frequent rest breaks, I finished reading a book. Perhaps when I consider everything, there is another silver lining for my efforts. I helped a friend when nobody else would. Now the job is done, completed, and I can move on to more meaningful projects. But before I return to the fray, my aching muscles need a day to recover.
I always remember my number one writing priority. My core habits are strong, and writing a little every day is my secret weapon. Yesterday I wrote 288 words.
Did you write yesterday?
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
There is only one thing worse than moving house, and that’s helping someone else do it. All that effort and nothing (of yours) to show for it! Apart from the feel-good factor, of course…
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Yes, and the sore muscles. Yuck.
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and nothing to show for it, not in your house anyway…
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True.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you for sharing. 💕🙏💕
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